


Obedience

by 2inchlich



Category: Original Work
Genre: Almost Cannibalism, Cannibalism, F/M, G/T, Historical, Horror, Implied Cannibalism, Jötnar | Jotuns | Frost Giants (Norse Religion & Lore), Macro/Micro, Macrophilia, Manipulation, Non-Sexual Submission, Size Difference, Stockholm Syndrome, Vikings, giant, giant tiny - Freeform, implied slavery, no explicit sexual content just a lot of horrific shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-11 12:38:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19109836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2inchlich/pseuds/2inchlich
Summary: An English woman is kidnapped by two jotuns after raiders destroy her village.  In her time in captivity she'll come to experience horrors in her adult life that she never would have anticipated in her comparatively idyllic youth.





	Obedience

**Author's Note:**

> \----
> 
> (This is one of my first attempts at writing in first person, so please bear with me! And I'm actually a big sucker for vikings/norse peoples more than I am the English as far as history goes, so please understand that I'm not calling vikings cannibals, I'm simply portraying two very evil monster men as such! They are outliers and should not be counted. Thank you for coming to my awful gross ted talk. Also, I would like to clarify that these are in fact the same giants I write about in all of my other stories, aaaaa i lvoe my ocs sorry you can't make me stop writing about these dweebs)
> 
> \----

They killed the other woman two days into the trek across the tundra. The summer had brought burgeoning swathes of wildflowers to life across the vast plains. Her bright dress and cloak nearly concealed her among their blossoms as she tried to run, but they were so much larger and stronger and there was nowhere for her to hide. Each of their steps covered more distance than she could have hoped to run.   
From my position obediently waiting on the rocks near their camp I could see that she would not be able to escape. From my position I saw the blond one snatch her in his hand and break her. I saw her die. There was no other word to describe it. Nothing in my vocabulary could properly articulate the sight succinctly. I saw her disappear into his grasp, and I saw him clench his gloved fingers, and I heard her scream cut short from the immense pressure of his grasp. He examined his work. He unfurled his fingers and regarded her with apathy. And then regarded me, still sitting on the rocks, with a sick pleasure that sent shivers down my spine.

I let out a fearful cry when I was reminded of the other giant’s presence by the sensation of his fingertip pressing gently against my back.   
“Thank you,” his deep, calm voice said to me. “For not running.”

He spoke more English than the other. The other would grimace at the sound of my language as if I cursed his mother with every syllable. The red haired one spoke to him in their odd tongue, but addressed me in English more often than not. He’d made it clear enough to me, at least, that trying to escape would result in the fate the other woman had so readily risked in her vain attempt at freedom.

The red haired one spoke, not only in my language usually, but calmly. Softly. It was a façade. I’d seen firsthand how cruel he was when he kidnapped me from my village. These monsters’ apparent desire for virgins was appropriate in my mind, somehow. All beasts seek out virgins. For what purpose, I’ve never been sure. To defile them? To preserve them for themselves? The reasoning escaped me. I wasn’t a monster, so it made sense that I wouldn’t be able to figure out their motives.

They’d come with raiders from the sea, on vast ships, manned by humans, carrying their legions as well as their two towering forms. Nobody could have hoped to survive. The few soldiers and veterans in the village were wiped out immediately. What few women survived were taken by the raiders. We, however, had been taken by the two giants. And I almost wished they’d just killed us with our kin.

I didn’t realize it, but I’d been drawn into my memories of that night. The carnage. The boat ride back to their homeland across raging seas. The journey we’d made thus far across this foreign land. I was only drawn from these memories by the sound of the other giant speaking softly behind me once more. 

“Quiet little thing,” he murmured. “Obedient.” 

I realized as well that I’d been staring directly at the blond giant as he approached once more, still cradling the dead woman in his palm. 

“Aftensmad?” The blond one asked, raising a brow and holding the body out towards the other.

“Ja. Jeg sulter.”

I couldn’t understand them. I turned away from the blond giant. I turned away from the red haired one as well. I pulled my knees to my chest and looked down at the ground before me. I was exhausted. Not physically. The red haired giant had kept me warm, and had carried me rather than forced me to walk, but mentally and emotionally I felt my condition degrading with every passing moment. I was numb to their cruelty outwardly for the most part, but internally the single most hopeless sense of despair had set in.

“Come here,” the red haired giant said. I had no autonomy so it wasn’t a request. It was something more along the lines of him announcing that he was going to grab me.  
His rough, slender fingers lifted me up cautiously, cradling me in his warm palm. He had described himself as a jotun. A “frost giant” of some sort. The heat radiating from his flesh belied some other nature than one of frost or snow. His warmth was a small blessing in this situation. It was one of the only things protecting me from the cool air. Despite it being summer, the night air tended towards a bitter chill that wracked my body with tremors. 

I limply allowed him to hold me. He took note of it. 

“You must be terrified,” he said, a smile evident in his voice. “Don’t be. You’re in good hands.” He chuckled and ran a fingertip down the side of my face, tucking it below my chin to force my head up to look at him. 

His thin, somewhat angular face wasn’t unpleasant to look at. Many of the raiders, when not caked in the blood of my people, were attractive. They kept themselves clean outside of battle. They were all healthy. He had pale skin and blue eyes the colour of frozen creek water. His nose was a little long, but it suited him. I turned away quickly, letting out a nervous whimper. 

His finger quickly, and roughly, turned my head back to face him as he raised me closer to his soft lips. His whispering voice blew over me, breath hot and smelling faintly of blood. 

“Don’t stop being so good now. We can do worse things than kill you.” He watched me, expression deathly serious. “Do you understand?”

I nodded. That seemed to be enough for him. He smiled once more and set me back on my perch on the rocks. “Good,” he said. “Stay.”

As the day wore on, I rested. I turned away from the two giants, laying on my side on the hard stone. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was easier to rest away from the imposing men who’d taken me. I slept on and off throughout the day, awoken only by the smell of roasting meat. It was dusk, and I saw the lights of the raiders fires scattered around the tundra in the distance. Could it have been the smell of their dinners cooking? There wasn’t any wind, so perhaps it was from the giants’ campfire.

I turned over, facing them from my spot lying on the rock now. They were eating small pieces of meat, the blond one popping some long strip of meat—bone and all—into his mouth. He smiled at me when he caught me watching.

He pulled a smaller strip of meat from the chunk he’d been nibbling off of and leaned in close.

“Food?” he said, offering the meat to me. It was odd hearing him speak my language. 

I looked at the meat and frowned. I couldn’t place the scent of it. It didn’t smell like beef or pork. They hadn’t brought sheep or horses. The only meat I’d seen them eat so far had been dried and preserved. I sat up and scooted away from his hand, shaking my head. The red haired giant laughed softly and pushed the other’s hand away from me.  
I recognized the scent then. Memories of the burning bodies of my kinsmen in my village flooded into my mind and my jaw fell slack. I stared at the meat that the blond giant tossed into his maw and let out a shriek loud enough to silence the nearest camps. Shortly after the cry left my lips, the red haired giant grabbed me. His fingers wrapped tight around me, covering me from head to toe. I was completely encased in flesh and darkness and a building pressure as he squeezed the air from my lungs. The pressure decreased only when he dropped me somewhere warm. 

It took me a moment to get my bearings, but I realized that I was near his chest. He’d dropped me into his tunic, the cloth wrap and leather belt around his waist keeping me from falling out the bottom. I could hear the inner workings of his body through his pale skin and lean muscle. That coupled with the knowledge of what he was eating—who he was eating—was enough to send me into hysterics. I wept, openly and with all my terror evident in my cries. He seemed to be trying to ignore me, not speaking to me and instead staying in a hushed conversation with the other giant. Every once in a while, however, if my sobbing bothered him more than he cared for, he would push me firmly against his skin, knocking the air out of me and temporarily—forcefully—bringing my sobs to a dead halt.

I don’t know when, or how, I fell asleep again, but somehow I did. I hadn’t eaten in days. It had been long enough for my hunger pangs to subside and dull into a distinct apathetic numbness within me—a sensation I hadn’t been familiar with since a harsh famine during my childhood. I remembered the notion of sleep coming easier when my body had nothing to sustain it. 

My sleep was dreamless and fast. I had fallen asleep at dusk and awoken late at night, on the cool grass beside the face of one of the giants. They had scattered fine, crushed rocks around the perimeter, and pushed boulders into a larger ring around them. Whether this was to trap me or to protect them wasn’t clear to me. The fire had died down and was nothing more than glowing embers now. This didn’t seem to be an issue for either sleeping giant, both encased in their warm wool and linen and massive pelt cloaks. I stood, as quietly as I could manage, and drew nearer to the remains of the fire, seeking its warmth rather than that of either giant. 

I wanted food. I needed it. I could risk stealing from the giants’ packs but… but no. I wouldn’t be able to trust any of the rations I found. I began to look over the ground. The dim light from the fire seemed to hinder me more than help, the shadows cast by the stones around it blocking my view of the surrounding ground. What plants I recognized were, for the most part, inedible. I managed to find some wild garlic, clover, and a small handful of bright red berries. I didn’t recognize them, but they smelled sweet and slightly tart. With my bounty gathered in my apron, I settle in near the fire, eating my foraged meal raw. 

I save the berries for last, intending to enjoy them as a desert. I raise a handful to my mouth, only to be stopped by the sensation of being watched. I feel my hair rustled by a gentle, warm, breeze and let out a meek whimper. 

“Those are poisonous,” that now all too familiar timbre murmurs just behind me. “Or did you already know that?”

I stand, still facing away from him, and let the berries fall from where I’d gathered them on my lap. My tan apron has faint red stains from the vibrant juices of several crushed ones. 

“I didn’t,” I say quietly. I’m not a fool, and I’m not ready to die. The fact that I’d nearly poisoned myself made my heart race in my chest. The notion that I was just as much of a threat to my own wellbeing as the giants were was enough to nearly send me into a silent panic.

I hear his low, rumbling chuckle behind me. He’s being quiet, likely to not wake the other giant or his loyal raiders. His fingers brush against my side, two of them gently grasping my arm.

“Come back to me. Sleep. I would appreciate it.” His tone isn’t pleading. He isn’t asking me to join him. It’s clear that he’s demanding it, no matter how soft he speaks or how gentle his words seem.

I don’t move though, even realizing that he’s commanding me. I feel him draw closer to me. I quiver lightly, but any movement or thought ceases when I feel something different press against my back. Something softer than his hands. His lips. The giant plants a delicate, but long, kiss on my back. I stand frozen on the spot. Being so close to lips that could smother the life out of me is enough to break something in me. He could kill me so easily, and the fact that he hasn’t is showing immense restraint—and patience¬—on his part.

“Come. Now.” 

I turn to face him, keeping my eyes cast down at my bare feet in the cool grass. This seems to please him. He backs away slightly, settling back in where he’d been before. He lifts his fur cloak up off of himself, patting the ground with thuds powerful enough to cause faint tremors. The action is nothing to him. I don’t doubt that he could knock me off my feet with a more forceful rendition of that same action.

I walk hesitantly but deliberately towards him, sitting obediently at the spot he had just beckoned me to. 

“Lay down.”

I do. I lie on my side, facing him but not looking at him. I focus on the darkness beneath the cloak—at some indistinguishable point in the gloom that allows me to imagine that I’m not being held captive by a pair of cannibalistic monsters. I think for a moment that I will be allowed to drift into a demi-conscious state where I can fantasize about my life how it once was. That thought is shattered when I feel his hand fall over me. 

I think for another moment that I will be crushed, but he remains gentle. He handles me delicately, pushing me up closer to his face once more. 

“Thank me,” he says. “I want you to thank me for being so kind to you.”

I don’t speak for a long moment. Almost too long. I can feel the tension rising in the silence between us.

“Thank you for not killing me,” I respond. I’m nearly shocked by the sound of my own voice. Dead. I sound dead. But the dead don’t speak. The dead don’t fear anything the way I fear him.

I feel as if he’s smiling, but I don’t look at him. He remains silent, pulling me in close and pressing me to his chest. I can tell exactly when he falls asleep from the sound of his massive heart beating slower and his deep breathing becoming even deeper.

Sleep doesn’t come to me until it’s nearly dawn. I sleep through him waking up, and even through him tucking me into the leather tinder pouch at his waist. There’s a thick layer of wool beneath me in there to protect me from slamming against the flint inside, so if I’m roused at all from this movement it’s only for the briefest of moments. I wake up in here. The gentle sway of his movements as he walks wasn’t unpleasant. It wouldn’t be if my situation were different, anyway. I hear him speaking to the other giant in their language. Their words are muffled by the leather around me. I hear a more distant voice and the movement stops. Another human is speaking to them, is my best guess. The voice isn’t as overwhelming as theirs.

The human speaking to them seems to be female. The closer I listen, however, the more voices I can pick out. Most female, but some male. They don’t sound afraid. They are most likely speaking in the same language as the giants, since the giants carry on a short, pleasant conversation with them. Could the people in this land be monstrous enough to be friendly with these murderers? What little hope I had at the notion of attaining my freedom with the aid of others of my own kind vanished.   
The people of this land were just as cruel as their masters, and I knew my fate—whatever it may be—was sealed.


End file.
